


Hot… in a feverish kind of way

by Taeyn



Series: I wouldn’t date him in 10,000 years [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fever, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Illness, Lancelot - Freeform, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron), Sickfic, Whump, caretaker!Lance, cold/flu, mild throwing up, sick!Lotor, sick!keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 21:29:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12044658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taeyn/pseuds/Taeyn
Summary: “Whoa,” Lance whispers, and he gently traces his fingers through Lotor’s plait, tucks the loose strands back behind his ear. “Are you… actually sick?”“You find it so unlikely?” Lotor murmurs, curious, and he nudges his head against Lance’s hand that was playing with his hair, as if to say,again?





	Hot… in a feverish kind of way

**Author's Note:**

> ♡ these can all be read as individual one-shots in the series, though they do follow a chronological order in terms of Lance & Lotor’s developing relationship, as well as Keith’s feelings toward Lance.
> 
> ♡♡ this was totally going to be my entry for @lotor-week’s free day, any excuse for hurt/comfort feels <33 (also, if anyone also feels like writing/has written any lotor-centric sickfic, pls always feel free to holler/tag me/send me the link on anon, so I can like/comment/flail all over the place!! *^^*)
> 
> ♡♡♡ the first 100 words = silly texts between Lance and Lotor c:

**LANCE (09:34)**

important Q are you at The Empire

?

**LOTOR (09:35)**

.

…

Is this another euphemism for my apartment?

**LANCE (09:35)**

YES LOL U GOT IT X’D

I got lost trying to find the laundry in that place??

but rly are you >?

**LOTOR (09:36)**

Yes, I am at home. :)

Did you? It’s the second door after the third kitchen. Apologies, I should have shown you~

**LANCE (09:36)**

NONO IT WAS FUNNY

kai will be there in 1 min ok bb xoxoxo

**LOTOR (09:36)**

…

Do you mean hour?

Or are you travelling by wormhole?

**LANCE (09:36)**

I forgot to tell you i decided to come over :DD

wait

do you need anything i can stop at the deli???

**LOTOR (09:37)**

Just you, please :)

…The Empire is well supplied.

See you in a second then.

...

bb

x

-

“Surprise- _ohmygosh-_ ” blurts Lance, his grin slipping to astonishment as Lotor greets him at the door. It’s not _bad_ astonishment and Lance immediately regrets it, though Lotor only raises an eyebrow, amused.

Lotor, who Lance has never seen in anything less than a 20-piece ensemble, windswept hair and his features effortlessly piercing and defined…

Lotor, who’s currently wearing nothing more than a cotton t-shirt and a pair of slacks, his hair plaited messily over his shoulder and deep, purplish shadows below his eyes.

“Good morning,” Lotor murmurs, somewhat less frightening as he gives a crooked smile. He leans down, touches a kiss to Lance’s brow instead of his cheek. “May I get you something, before I change? Coffee? It’s cold outside, hm?”

He hangs up Lance’s overcoat, and despite the statement being true, it’s Lotor’s hands that are freezing when they brush against Lance’s.

His voice is lower too, slightly husky at the edges...

Bewildered, Lance lets his gaze travel down the hallway. There are no bottles, or ashtrays, or any other evidence of a wicked house party that Lotor might be recovering from. And Lance would have been invited anyhow.

Lance gives his boyfriend another searching look.

Lotor slouches against the wall, offers a wry stare.

“Hold up a second,” says Lance, and he marches over to the living room. If Lotor’s been pulling crazy hours over an assignment, there’ll at least be some papers near his favourite beanbag… or a mug… or...

“Everything up to standard?” Lotor says affectionately, then coughs and clears his throat, raises a hand in apology.

“ _Wait,_ ” says Lance, his eyes slowly widening as he turns back around. He paces over, carefully raises his palm to the side of Lotor’s face. Lotor’s eyes follow him, lower when Lance peers up in disbelief. Lotor’s brow is cool as ever, but his cheekbones are prickled with warmth, his eyes glittery bright.

“Whoa,” Lance whispers, and he gently traces his fingers through Lotor’s plait, tucks the loose strands back behind his ear. “Are you… actually sick?”

“You find it so unlikely?” Lotor murmurs, curious, and he nudges his head against Lance’s hand that was playing with his hair, as if to say, _again?_

“Not _too_ unlikely?” Lance tries, then laughs when Lotor twitches a smile, not buying it for a second. “Okay. Like. Maybe?? I have no idea why! I just kind of think of you as.. uh-”

Lotor’s eyelids flutter closed as Lance trails his fingers, Lotor’s hair feels silky even where it tangles.

“-as… slightly... invincible?” Lance finishes, gives a despairing grin as he realises just how much sillier that sounds out-loud.

“Oh?” hums Lotor, and he shivers as Lance lightly tugs on the braid. He peeks open an eye, fond. “I’m flattered.”

Lance breathes out a laugh, his thumb skips along the nape of Lotor’s neck. Lotor gives a small, achy sort of smile, he looks less exhausted as Lance carefully loosens his hairtie, gently spreads his fingers through Lotor’s now-wavier lengths.

“Hey,” Lance says quietly, because Lotor looks just about relaxed enough to sleep standing up. “Why don’t I change instead? You can lend me a pair of PJ’s, and we can just hang out and watch a movie or something?”

Lotor slits open an eye, considering. Lance picks up one of his arms, takes a backward step toward the sofa.

“I don’t know if they’ll fit you,” Lotor suggests, not unkindly, and Lance is surprised when he realises what Lotor’s really trying to say.

_You don’t have to do that for me._

“Um, please,” Lance winks, inches another step. Lotor’s arm feels heavier than usual, but he allows himself to be dragged forward. “I rock the off-the-shoulder look like _nobody’s_ business, you’ve clearly never seen me in my bikini. Also, not gonna lie, if you wanna skip the pajamas and just grab a couple of blankets, if you know what I’m saying-”

Lotor chuckles, then tries not to cough, he still looks unsure as Lance talks him across the living room.

“-I’m totally making us breakfast, by the way. Hunk may be the master of seasoning, but give me eggs and a frying pan and I’m pretty stiff competition I tell you, my sunny-side-up-”

They’re very nearly at the lounge when Lotor hesitates, Lance can’t quite read his expression. Then, Lotor sips a quick breath and holds it, his brows hover and his eyes squeeze shut, his torso gives a barely-noticeable flinch.

“Oh. My. Gosh,” says Lance, he suddenly smiles as Lotor blinks. “Is that how you sneeze? Are you serious? I don’t even get to pass you a tissue or anything?”

“-thank you,” Lotor teases after a half-second, still slightly dazed. His grip on Lance’s arm tightens as he jerks toward his chest for another, a good deal less controlled than the first.

“Aww, bless- I gotcha- oops, _bless_ you, okay okay I take it back-” Lance laughs worriedly, Lotor barely has time to recover before taking another gulp of air. “It’s like five or nothing, huh? Don’t pop your ears for my sake, that sounds _painful-_ okay, that’s it, I’m sitting you down-”

“Lance, stop making me laugh,” Lotor manages between stifled sneezes, but he’s pliable enough for Lance to haul him the final two feet to the sofa, where he collapses with a watery-sounding sniffle.

“Ohh baby,” says Lance, and he takes off his jacket, tucks it over Lotor’s front until he can fetch a quilt. “I’m not kidding about breakfast and movies, okay? You just chill right there, I’ll be right-”

He pauses as Lotor glances up at him. It’s another of his strange, undecipherable expressions, one eye narrowing as his head dips a fraction to the side.

“-okay?” Lance tries again, hopeful. Lotor’s always had a knack for knowing what other people are thinking, but whether from the fever, lack of sleep, or something entirely different, this one seems to be throwing him.

“Okay,” Lotor says softly, and his lips part on an inhale, as if he might say more.

“Okay then,” Lance says gently, gives a reassuring smile when Lotor can only manage a slightly less-intense stare. He leans down, bumps Lotor’s fingers with his own, then winces as Lotor starts coughing almost as soon as he’s out of the room.

“One of these days, I’ve really gotta draw a map,” Lance mumbles to himself, he’s opened the door to three different guest bedrooms before he finds the cupboard with the blankets. Lance’s phone starts ringing almost as soon as he does, and Lance wedges it between his shoulder and his ear.

“Hey Hunk,” says Lance, and he navigates to the kitchen on luck alone. “Good timing, hey, do you think pancakes can go with scrambled eggs? Like on the side, or something?”

“Absolutely,” says Hunk, slightly puffed, and Lance switches on the kettle to make tea.

“Dude, where are you?” says Lance, pulls a face at himself in Lotor’s shiny refrigerator. He’s sure he can hear Keith and Pidge in the background, and he’s even surer that they all have Friday morning lectures.

“Uhhuhm-” Hunk answers, he sounds like he’s jogging. “-okay, before we get to that. On a scale of one to ten, how much did you like your blue and white sneakers?”

Lance sets down an armful of ingredients, wipes his hands on his t-shirt as he thinks about it.

“Mmmm, five? Six? Wait, is ten like, can’t live without them? WAIT, what do you mean, _did?_ ”

“- _can you just hang up, already-_ ” comes Keith’s voice, this time there’s no mistaking it. There’s a shuffling, scrambling noise, and the next thing it's Pidge on the line.

“Hey Lance,” she says cheerfully. “Long story short, Keith kind of threw up in the dorm- well- he was diving for the trash can, but you know, best laid plans and all-”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” says Lance, then fumbles with the carton of milk as it registers. “Wait, _what?_ What’s going on? Is he okay?”

Lance can hear more exclamations from Keith in the background, another crackle as Pidge lobs the phone back to Hunk.

“Keith is very _not_ okay,” Hunk says pointedly, and Lance’s heart sinks when he hears the concern in his voice. “He’s delirious, dehydrated, and halfway to Mid-City Mall because he apparently wants to replace your shoes-”

“Right, right, _shoot_ ,” Lance mutters, then takes a deep breath, leans back against the counter. Keith had been quiet with him for days. When he’d said he was tired, Lance couldn’t shake the feeling that wasn’t the whole story.

...lately, he just feels less and less able to work out the rest.

“Can you put him on?” Lance ventures, he hears a mumble in the background as Hunk passes Keith the phone.

There’s a small silence.

“Hey, you,” Lance says gently, listens as Keith takes a breath.

“Hey,” Keith says after a moment, and if anything, he sounds subdued. “Hey. Sorry about the thing. I know you like that weird sneaker place behind the mall. So I’ll fix it, yeah. Sorry.”

“You remember my weird sneaker place behind the mall?” Lance says wryly, trying his best to cheer him up. “ _I_ seem to remember you being all like, ohhhmy _goddd_ Lance, enough with the shoe-shopping stories, why can’t you just order sneakers direct from the 80’s like everyone else in this friendship group?”

Keith gives a husky laugh, his voice quieter than Lance expects when he answers.

“That sounds about right,” Keith murmurs, turns away from the phone as he coughs. “But yeah. I do... remember.”

“Can you do me a favour?” Lance asks softly, and he realises his chest hurts from holding his breath. “Can we maybe save the shopping for another day? And like, we can go together? I promise I’ll make it fun, I could even get you new gloves, _I_ don’t even remember where I bought you those ones you always-”

“No,” Keith interrupts, “I like them.”

“Alright,” Lance laughs, “but can we still take a rain-check? As much as I’m trying to get you home safe and sound, I still mean it when I say I wanna come with.”

Keith sniffles, and he sounds so congested that Lance is surprised he managed to walk that far.

“Yeah,” Keith murmurs after a second. “Okay.”

Keith holds the phone away as he starts coughing again, Lance’s smile slowly falls as he realises Keith will be going back to their empty dorm.

Unless…

“Hey, wait a minute, what street are you on exactly?” says Lance, and he scoots round to peer over Lotor’s terrace. “Because you know what other location is super duper cool and also halfway to Mid-City Mall...?”

Keith is deliberately silent.

“Oh god no,” Keith says after a moment, deadpans.

Lance grins.

“One more favour?” asks Lance. “Pretty please?”

-

“So whattaya think of Lotor’s PJ’s?” Lance says brightly, waves his arms so the light-grey sleeves droop over his hands. Keith narrows his eyes, looks blearily up from where he’s been using Lance’s lap as a pillow.

“And Lotor’s herbal tea?” Lotor adds, his tone slightly drier, he holds a mug unceremoniously in Keith’s general direction as Keith stirs.

“It’ll help you feel less icky,” says Lance, and he gently places his palm on Keith’s stomach. “You still look a bit pale.”

Keith squints suspiciously at the mug, then up at Lotor, who calmly raises an eyebrow.

“Would you prefer to see me drink from it first?” Lotor asks, halfway between scathing and amused.

“Translation: I made enough for everyone! It’s really good tea!” Lance announces. He nudges Keith encouragingly, then regrets it as Keith gives an ill-looking wince.

“Come on,” says Lotor, softer, and he kneels as Lance eases Keith upright. “The neighbour’s recycling bin is one thing, but I’m rather attached to this carpet.”

When Keith actually gives a half-smile, Lance feels so happy he could hug them both.

“Tell your neighbour I’m sorry?” Keith mumbles croakily, and Lance helps him hold the mug, one hand cupped below Keith’s chin as he takes a tentative sip. Keith looks pained as he swallows, his eyes tearing as he hiccups.

“The meds should start to work soon too,” Lance murmurs, pushes Keith’s damp hair out of his eyes as he lays back down. “You’ll feel better when you’re not burning up. _Both_ of you,” he adds, when Lotor gives him an innocent blink.

To Lotor’s credit, he hardly looks unwell at all since Keith arrived, Lance half wants to joke that he’s using some sort of glamour. He’s also still wearing Lance’s jacket, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the too-short sleeves…

Lance catches Lotor’s eye, smiles.

...yeah, Lance is pretty sure it’s real.

“I’m going to go finish making breakfast,” Lotor says lightly, and he shakes his head before Lance can protest.

“Agh, I was going to impress you with that,” says Lance, but Keith gives a sleepy cough from his lap, so Lance stops fidgeting, nods thankfully instead. Lotor squeezes Lance’s hand as he gets up, his fingers linger fondly as Lance holds on.

“You comfy down there?” Lance mumbles after a second, then shuffles so Keith can lay on his chest instead. When Keith doesn’t answer, Lance gently folds both arms over his back, feels Keith shiver, then slowly relax.

“You can still tell me when you’re not feeling well, you know,” Lance murmurs, then yawns, Lotor’s sofa is way squishier than his bed back at college. “Just ‘cause I have a boyfriend, it doesn’t mean you’re not my bae.”

Keith’s eyebrows pinch, he doesn’t look all that pleased when he slits open an eye.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith says stiffly, and Lance glances down, worried.

“Um,” says Lance, and he feels a twinge in his stomach, he’s not quite sure where he’s gone wrong. “I just mean that nothing’s changed. Between us, I mean,” he says reassuringly, rubs a small circle between Keith’s shoulders.

Keith keeps staring at him, his bangs slip over his face as his eyes darken.

“Nothing’s changed for _you_ ,” he mutters, then grimaces, ducks into his sleeve to muffle another cough.

“But what’s changed for you?” says Lance, more and more concerned. Keith’s always been his more protective friend, he’d always assumed he’d be like this if _any_ of them started dating. “Do I talk about him too much? I just wanted to be sure you felt included?”

Keith gives a sharp twitch of his head- _no_ \- his expression looks almost angry before he buries his face back into Lance’s chest.

“Have I done something to make you like me less?” says Lance, and his voice is getting higher now, his pitch rising without him meaning it to. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re not even gonna let me know what I did to-”

“What changed-” Keith snaps, and Lance falls abruptly silent. Keith’s fist is clenched tight into Lance’s shirt, his knuckles pale and his voice strangled. “Is now _I_ know- that you don’t- that we won’t-”

Lance sits up a fraction, his inhale catches in his throat and his body swoops hot and cold, his mouth falls slightly ajar.

“What changed,” Keith hisses, and his shoulders tremble, his mouth pulls down at the corners as he turns to face Lance. “Is that now I’m fucking everything up.”

Keith’s breath hitches as he takes a gulp of air, Lance’s hands feel numb as he tries to hold him, his ears ringing as Keith suddenly jerks away.

“No, I am,” says Keith, more fiercely when Lance tries to speak. “I’ve been fucking this up since you met him- and- I’ve just- I want to say that, I’m- sorry-”

“Stop, stop-” whispers Lance, he feels like the whole world’s moving except for Keith. They stare at each other, before Keith wrenches upright, half-stumbles toward the front door and makes a harsh, congested-sounding sob.

“-stop, don’t-” Lance manages, and he scrambles to his feet in time to catch up, clumsily wraps both arms around Keith from behind. Keith’s stronger than he looks, and for a moment Lance thinks he’s going to get an elbow to the stomach, or end up flat on his face. But then the fight drains out of him, Keith goes limp in his arms. When Keith turns around, his jaw is clenched, his breath coming in short gasps as a single tear spills down his cheek.

“You- you have a really bad fever-” says Lance, not because he believes that’s the reason, but in case Keith wants him to.

“ _Don’t,_ ” spits Keith, he doesn’t wipe below his eyes. Lance realises he’s crying too, he’s never seen Keith like this and he can’t help it.

“Well then why, why, _why_ didn’t you tell me!” Lance wails, his ears are popping as he tries to sniffle, he doesn’t want to mop himself up with Lotor’s pajamas. “What do you mean I _don’t-_ you’ve never even asked-!”

“Do me one favour-” says Keith, and he’s shaking so badly that Lance has to steady him.

“I need to use your shirt-” Lance blurts at the same time, and he scrunches his nose on Keith’s shoulder as Keith nods.

“If it would have made a difference,” Keith whispers, and he touches his brow to Lance’s neck, lets out an unsteady breath as he collects himself. “Then don’t tell me.”

Lance freezes, the words sound low and faraway.

“I know,” Keith whispers again. “That I should have. There were a hundred times I almost did. But if you, at any point, would have wanted to hear it…”

He shakes his head, looks near ready to pass out.

“Then please don’t say it,” Keith finishes, sinks against Lance’s chest. “Because I can’t.”

Lance lowers him to the back to the sofa, crouches as Keith crumples toward his knees.

“I- I’m going to have to say _one_ thing, because it’s important-” Lance wavers, and Keith presses his lips together, hesitates, then blinks.

“Whatever happens,” says Lance, and his eyebrows knot as Keith stares at him. “What _ever_ happens, I’ve always- _will_ always-”

Keith’s eyes widen, and not wanting to risk them both crying again, Lance swallows instead, presses his palm to the middle of Keith’s chest.

“-you know?” he finishes.

Keith drops his gaze down, his eyes clouding over as he nods. He moves his hand to his front, curls a finger around Lance’s.

Lance doesn’t let go.

-

“Have I ever told you, you look hot with a fever?” Lance asks later, when Lotor seems to be through the worst of it. They’re in one of the bathrooms, Lotor slumped over the marble basin and Lance pressing a soaked towel to his face.

Lotor breathes out a laugh, throws Lance a grateful squint.

“I’m so very sorry you had to see that,” he says after a moment, his voice coarse and ruined. “Not my finest moment, by any means.”

“Would you stop apologising already,” Lance says gently, cups his hand under the running faucet so that Lotor can rinse and spit. “Hate to break it to you, but I’ve seen _way_ worse. And you picking the _one_ bathroom in this place that only has a sink? Yeah. Totally cute.”

Lotor laughs again, groans and shakes his head.

“You’re far too kind,” he manages, his hands still shaky as he manages to stand straight again. “I’m very embarrassed, Lance.”

Lance scoops an arm around Lotor’s front, carefully, so he’s not squeezing his stomach. He presses his ear to Lotor’s side, feels his chest expand as he takes a breath, slowly lets it out.

“You’re really not used to people seeing you ill, huh?” Lance murmurs, and Lotor closes his eyes, gives Lance a tentative hug with one arm, like he wishes he could squeeze back.

“No,” Lotor whispers after a moment, his face turned away so Lance can barely hear. “I’m really not used to people staying.”

-

**Author's Note:**

> weh, these stories seem to be getting longer and longer! they were all originally planned as tumblr-sized drabbles :’3 so thank you so much for reading, kudos and comments are always adored and appreciated, or [say hi to me on tumblr~!](http://sillyshiro.tumblr.com/) <3


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